Everything You Need
by you-me-and-no-one-else
Summary: They both were always misunderstood by everyone. Who would have thought that they would find in love in each other? Paul/OC
1. Prologue

Prologue

Why must all of the people in my life constantly come to hate me? Was it because I always seemed to bring bad luck to me, wherever I went? Or maybe it was because I normally ended up pushing them away as soon as they got too close? I just didn't trust people too easily, and so many people couldn't understand that. After everything that happened in my past though, with my family, could you really blame me?

But, when I first met _him_, I had thought that he would see through all of my flaws and see me for who I really was: not some outcast, not as a musically-obsessed loser, but as just...me. I guess I was wrong though, right? I guess it's just in my genes to end up trusting someone, and assume that they would always be there for me, but only end up to get my heart broken. Funny how I always tried to make sure that would never happen, but, the one time I let my barriers down, I managed to get my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped on for about an hour or two. Oh, how I so hated irony.

I watched my attacker, trying to push myself away, but couldn't bring myself too. My injuries were too severe to allow me to simply stand up and run. The stalker in front of me leaned towards me, his ice-cold breath making my lips want to curl up into a sneer. However, as I watched him, the one thing I wished that I could have done, before this all happened, was tell _him _that I was sorry, for everything that I had done to him. If I hadn't been so stupid, maybe I could have managed to save him the heartache. I kept a cold face on as my attacker leaned down, ready to make the kill.


	2. Chapter One

Okay, well, here's my first real story on here

**Okay, well, here's my first real story on here. It's a Paul/OC story, but, I'm going to try my best to not make it like all of those other stories out there, since they're always done over and over again. I hope you like this first chapter **

I never really was the type of girl who "fit in". Wherever I went, I constantly made enemies with the wrong people, either from some stupid mistake I made, or just for the fact that I didn't wear the clothes that everybody wanted me to wear, or the fact that I didn't act the way everybody else did. When I was younger, it had constantly worried me, as I, like any other little girl, had just wanted to make friends. People would repeatedly ridicule me for keeping to myself, and away from everybody else. But, as I got older, I became used to all of it, to all of the labeling and the distance I kept from everyone. And, now, at the age of seventeen, as I walked through the Manchester Airport, I took no notice to the curious looks I got from students who most likely went to my high school and had seen me around, or had simply heard a rumor about me.

I made sure to block out their whispering, though; what was the point of listening to all of it, when I could simply listen to my iPod and tune everybody else out? I did that so much in school that it had become like a coping method for me. I sighed softly as I waked towards my gate, where the receptionist took my boarding pass, scanned it, and handed it back to me. She looked honestly bored, and I couldn't really blame her; who would want to be up at 6:30 in the morning, dealing with some early-risers who were taking a cheap flight to Seattle, Washington. Aunt Rhonda had always been like that: only caring about her money and making sure to never spend too much of it. Honestly, I hated her for it, as for every other little thing she did, but that was beyond the point. My own father and step-mother hated her with a fiery passion, and had made their displeasure of me visiting her and my two cousins very clear when I explained to them that I had bought my ticket for the summer.

Why did I buy a plane ticket to fly off to some place that I didn't even want to go to, to just visit an aunt that I didn't even like? Well, it was for my cousins, really: Andrew and Bryan. Andrew was almost twenty now, and still lived in La Push, Washington, while he went to the University in Seattle. Bryan was seventeen, my age, in fact. My relationship with them? Practically non-existent, really. You see, after my uncle was sent away from them, my dad, step-mother, and I lost all contact with Rhonda, Andrew, and Bryan. They isolated themselves in Washington, away from the rest of my family in New Hampshire. It was as if Aunt Rhonda was just determined to stay away from anyone that could possibly remind her of her past-husband. I found it—and her, really—quite pathetic, and hated her even more for it. But, of course, that didn't make me feel all pity for Andrew or Bryan—neither of them ever tried to contact us, even when they were old enough to make their own decisions, despite the constant text messages and phone calls I made to try and have some sort of relationship with them? Did I get anything in return? Nope. And that was why I was going to La Push, Washington: to give them a peace of my freaking mind and make sure that there was a relationship between us, even though I was already dreading it.

The flight wasn't too long; it only lasted for about four of five hours, and I got my own seat to myself, thank goodness; I didn't have the patience to deal with one of those screaming babies sitting right next to me. I mostly just listened to my iPod and read some book that I had grabbed off of my sister's shelf—Just Listen, by Sarah Dessen. I honestly had never read it, and I normally kept away from my sister's stuff, but she had forced me to take at least one of her books, just so that I could get "cultured". Yeah, that sounded like a bunch of BS to me too. I was already halfway through it when the plane touched the ground, and I was soon standing up with my earbuds still placed in my ears. After I managed to push through the crowd of people that were trying to get off of the plane as well, I emerged into the gate, where I already saw Andrew leaning against the wall, one hand holding a phone to his ear and his low voice talking quietly and quickly to someone. I stood in front of him, my arms crossed over my chest, and, as soon as his eyes landed on me, I heard him say something like "I'll call you back" and hang up his cell phone. His eyes looked down at me, as if completely surprised that I was actually there. "Hey there, shrimp," said Andrew, a smirk forming on his lips as he automatically wrapped his large arms around my petite frame. I rolled my eyes at him, but returned his embrace nonetheless.

Andrew was far from a little guy; he stood about six feet three inches, and he was only twenty. He had most definitely gotten his height from his dad's side of the family—my family. Unfortunately, I was the shortest of the bunch, and everybody managed to make fun of me for it—hence the "shrimp" comment. He was pretty in shape, though, and was a good-looking guy; even as he was hugging me, I noticed some fifteen-year-old girl giving me a death glare. His blue eyes just seemed to attract girls everywhere he went—those blue eyes that were just exactly like mine. It was frightening how we were only cousins, and yet we looked so similar sometimes. Dark hair, blue eyes—it was like we were actually siblings. Too bad I didn't have any way of talking to him to actually find out about how much he looked like me before I arrived.

"So, how have you been?" asked Andrew, taking my dark green shoulder bag from my arm and pulling it over his own shoulder, despite the fact that it clashed awfully with his preppy attire. "I haven't heard from you since you were seven years old and were being sprayed by me with a hose." A smirk appeared on his lips at the thought of the memory, and I rolled my eyes again.

"I've been alright," I replied quietly, keeping my eyes down on the ground. I wouldn't confess to him about my personal life, since, really, he wasn't apart of it anymore. After he and his brother distanced themselves from me, I lost all affection for them, despite how much I tried to regain it over the very long years. "What about you? How's college?"

And that's how our conversation went throughout the retrieval of my suitcase and the hour-long car ride to Aunt Rhonda's house: small talk. We mostly talked about his college, and then about the colleges that I had been thinking about attending after I graduated next year. We didn't talk much, since I was sure that he felt just as awkward as I did. But, then the topic shifted over to his mother, and then to my own dad and my step-mom, Linda, and I could tell that he just wanted the car ride to end, seeing as how I constantly made sure that my answers to his questions were short and harsh. I didn't really want to talk to him, since I was obviously still upset about everything that he had done over the years. You can imagine how relieved I was to finally arrive at Aunt Rhonda's house, so that I could finally get away from him.

After hopping out of his old, rusty, brown truck, I grabbed my suitcase and backpack and, ignoring Andrew's offer to carry one of my bags, began to walk up to the front porch of the old house. It was a cabin, practically, and, despite how ancient it looked, was actually quite nice. It was definitely different from the other houses that I had seen in New Hampshire. As we reached the porch, I saw that the screen door was the only thing that was shielding us from walking inside. Andrew was about to open the door when a short, curvy woman with dark brown, curly hair appeared behind the screen door. Her face lit up with a wide smile as she saw Andrew and me, and she threw open the door, revealing her old jeans and tank top, which were covered by a pink, flowery apron. "Oh, Charlotte, just look at you!" she exclaimed, rushing out the door. I cringed at the sound of my full name; the only time it was ever used was when my dad was really upset with me about something. Before I could even take in the woman who had most likely ruined my entire family, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a tight hug, as if I was some long-lost daughter that she had thought that she had lost. I stiffened from her touch and, unlike how I reacted to Andrew, refused to return the embrace, keeping my arms tense by my sides. As she pulled away, she ushered us both inside, after giving Andrew a soft peck on the cheek.

As I took a seat on the couch, she began to ask me numerous questions. How was the flight? How was my father and Linda? How was my grandmother? When did I get out of school? How is school? How did I think that I did on all of my finals? All of these questions overwhelmed me so much, but, somehow, I managed to answer all of them. The flight was fine, and Dad, Linda, and Grandma were all just fine. School was alright, and I got out on the twenty-third of June. Yes, I knew exactly how late that was compared to these other kids. Oh, and, I was pretty sure I did pretty good on my finals. When the oven timer went off, alerting her to the fact that her cookies were now finished, she rushed out of the living room. Andrew had already left before he could even sit down, saying that he had to finish up some stuff up at his dorm. Lucky bastard, really, since then he didn't have to listen to his mother's crazed questions. While was gone, I was finally able to look around the living room.

There were two couches set up, and both were facing the small television set. It was decorated with a female's touch, with bookshelf filled with books and pictures of family members sitting in picture flames. I noticed there were two lines of pictures on the wall that was behind the television—both showed two babies growing from infants to young men. I recognized Andrew's most recent picture easily, but, before I could examine Bryan's closer, Aunt Rhonda came bustling in with a plate of steaming chocolate-chip cookies. She offered me some, but I declined. There was no way that I would be able to take any, even if they did smell amazing. Somehow, I was able to escape all of her questions and escaped up into the guest room, which simply consisted of a double bed, a desk, and a nice view of the backyard. After I set all of my stuff on the ground and managed to slip my earbuds into my ears once more, I blasted the music, laid down, and allowed the tears to finally come, soaking my too-perfect lace pillow. Soon, I cried myself to sleep, hoping to find some sort of escape from this horrid place that I already was beginning to hate.


	3. Chapter Two

When I woke up three hours later, the sun had disappeared from the light blue sky, and was replaced with a bunch of thick, dar

When I woke up three hours later, the sun had disappeared from the light blue sky, and was replaced with a bunch of thick, dark grey clouds and a calming night sky. I slowly opened my eyes, and examined the sky through my window; had I been at home in New Hampshire, I most likely would have snuck out of my window and sat down on the roof, just watching the stars and eventually fallen asleep. But, of course, I then remembered that I was not in perfect New Hampshire, but in La Push, Washington, a place that would most likely rain down on me as soon as I stepped outside. Seeing as how I always seemed to have bad luck follow me everywhere, I decided to resist the urge to sit outside, and opened my door, listening for any noises downstairs. Biting my bottom lip nervously as I realized that it was too hard to tell, I crept down the stairs, trying to make sure that I didn't make any loud noises. However, once I got near the end of the stairs, I saw someone sitting on the couch in the living room, watching me with a frown on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. It didn't take me too long to realize that this was my other exciting cousin, Bryan.

I almost lost my footing when I got a full look at his face; he looked absolutely just like my father, as if he was his son instead of my uncle's. His blonde hair just barely passed his extremely dark, almost pitch-black eyes, and the contrast actually looked good on his face. He was big, too; he was only seventeen, and yet he practically stood at six feet four inches. I automatically was sure that I'd look like a midget whenever I stood next to him, and I was sure that he, just like his older brother, would have made fun of me if we actually got along. But, we've been sort-of...at odds ever since last year. Well, you see, it all started when his dad told me that Bryan was going around telling everybody that I wasn't even bothering to try and contact them, when it had most definitely been the other way. So, after I found out, I basically called Bryan up, told him to grow some balls and tell me if he has a problem with me instead of whining to everybody else about me, and called him a jack ass for ever thinking that I would never try to talk to him. I never really got a response from him—all I heard was the slam of a phone, obviously telling me that he had hung up. We haven't exactly talked much since then, and it's been almost an entire year now.

"Hello, sunshine," I said to him sarcastically, leaning against the banister and crossing my arms over my chest, using the same expression—calm and collected—that he had on his face. I watched his frown only deepen, and he looked like he was ready to leave the room until I asked him, "So, how's my favorite cousin been? Grow some balls yet?" Okay, maybe that was kind of harsh, but I was still pretty upset about how he had hung up with me before I even had the chance to continue on with my rant.

Before Bryan could respond to my challenge, though, Aunt Rhonda bustled into the room, a bright smile still plastered all over her face. It was quite sad how she acted like she was so happy to have me here, and yet she seemed so fake. I mean, why would she be so happy to see me? Maybe it was because I was kind of her only connection to her ex-husband and his family? I knew that it was obvious that she still loved him, even if she was already remarried. Her latest beau was no where to be seen, and, to be quite honest, I was pretty happy. Aunt Rhonda was known for dating complete creeps—with the exception of my uncle, of course. She saw us, and her smile faltered slightly. Suddenly, a cheerful look appeared on her face once more, and she turned to Bryan and asked, "Bryan, sweetie, why don't you take Charlotte with you to the beach? I'm sure she'd love to meet all of your friends."

Bryan and I both looked at her with similar expressions, and the both of us wanted to ask her if she was truly insane. How could she even suggest a thing? I'm sure Bryan's friends were just like him—pig-headed, stupid, and completely fully of themselves. Big surprise, really, that I was going to be stuck with a bunch of people who I probably was going to hate; it seemed that my bad luck was still with me, even though I had been hoping that I had left it behind in New Hampshire. Guess I still can't get what I want, right? I wanted to groan and complain about going, but knew that my father would kick my ass if he ever found out that I wasn't listening to Aunt Rhonda; he may hate her as much as I do, but that doesn't mean that I can't be able to show her some respect. Even though she doesn't deserve it.

Bryan, being a complete momma's boy, begrudgingly agreed and dragged me out to his old, two-seater Chevy truck. It was a dark brown color, and I smirked at the fact that it looked just like Andrew's. Pulling the door open, I swung myself inside, which proved to be an interesting ordeal, seeing as how the truck was practically way too big for me. As we began to drive away from the house, Bryan asked me in a quiet, amused voice, "Still hate being called Charlotte?" He knew, as almost everybody did, that I hated my name with a frightening passion.

"Yep," I replied in a cold voice, putting my black sneakers up on the glove box, my arms crossed over my chest. The A/C was blasting, and I was sure that I was starting to freeze my ass off. I was about to ask him to turn it down when I noticed the smirk that had already begun to form on his lips. I glared at Bryan, wanting to punch the hell out of him; the sick freak was already starting to get some pleasure of me freezing. I reminded myself to shove him into the ocean once we got to this damn beach. I threw up the hood of my baggy white sweatshirt as soon as we pulled into a parking space near the ocean, where there was a huge bonfire going on with a whole bunch of kids surrounding it. They all looked like they were having a good time; at least someone was tonight. My head was now hidden from view, so that I wouldn't have to worry about someone trying to talk to me or whatever. Smart people normally knew that, if they saw someone with a hood on with earbuds plugged into their ears, it meant that they didn't want to talk to anybody.

"You coming?" asked Bryan, raising an eyebrow at my hood. I rolled my eyes at him, even though he couldn't even see it, thanks to my lovely hood, and followed him over to a group of boys. I didn't try to see them, but, instead, kept my eyes on the sandy beach, wanting to just get the hell out of there. Why did I have to come? Why couldn't I have just made up a stupid excuse to get out of it, like that I wasn't feeling too well? I did it all the time in New Hampshire, so why couldn't I do it here? I sighed softly, and finally came to a stop next to Bryan, in front of these guys. Groaning internally, I looked up at them and was sure that, if my throat hadn't been so dry, I would have gasped.

These guys were...huge. No, not just huge; they were enormous. The oldest looked only about twenty, and yet he stood at an impressive six feet seven inches, at least. My eyes scanned each of their faces, and found the same features, practically: russet skin, silky black hair, and deep, onyx eyes. I saw one figure standing in the shadows, as if wanting to stay out of the focus of everyone. As I looked just a bit closer, I saw that it was actually a female, one who was just as tall and as beautiful as these people surrounding me. I crossed my arms over my chest, ready to feel as uncomfortable as I ever could. Bryan placed his hand on my shoulder, which caused my face to turn up to his incredulously, but he ignored it. "Hey, guys," he greeted them, a bright smile appearing on his face. It was the first time that I had ever seen him smile; I was sure that I had seen the female figure shift almost uncomfortably, but, as I looked over at her, it was as if she hadn't ever moved. "This is my cousin, Charlotte. She's staying with us for the summer."

If I could have, I would have punched him in the stomach right there and then. Had I not just told him that I didn't like the name Charlotte? I guess this was payback for what I had told him before; evil bastard. "It's Charlie," I said coolly, shrugging off Bryan's hand on my shoulder. Of course, I would come off as some bratty girl who thought she was better than everybody else. I never was too great with first impressions. "And I'm going over there," I added, motioning over to the spot that was not inhabited by anybody. As I moved to walk over there, I felt someone grab the back of my hood and pull me back, making sure to reveal my face as well. I spun around, and glared at Bryan, who was glaring back down at me. "What?" I snarled, ignoring the other boys' curious and, in the case of one boy, annoyed, glances in my direction.

However, all of those changed when they saw my face; their expression became shocked and horrified at the sight of my face. That happened to me so many times that I became almost immune to it. Now, I won't bore you with some stupid story about how "drop-dead gorgeous I was" or anything, since that it most definitely the opposite of what they were surprised about. You see, what they were staring at were the grotesque scars that marred my once-plain face. I had two scars running down my cheek, starting at the tip of my forehead and all the way down to the point where my shoulder blade and neck met. I watched all of their faces, but, there were only two that stuck out: I'll start with the oldest one, since his was much more easier to read. It was like he had seen my face before, or, (and I wondered about this later on as I laid in my bed) he knew someone that had the same problem as I did. At least he had the decency to not stare rudely at me. The second one that was staring at me differently was very...difficult for me to explain.

He wasn't staring at my scars, which, I must admit, stood out easily from the rest of my features. But, instead, he was gazing into my eyes, with an expression that made a threatening chill run down my spine. I felt a major dizzy-spell take over me, and I almost felt my legs go out underneath me, if it wasn't for the fact that Bryan was still holding my shoulder, as if he knew it would happen. I suddenly felt like everybody else had disappeared, and it was just me staring at him, with no one else gawking me. And, for once, I felt...safe, like I actually belonged somewhere. It frightened me with such means that I can't even speak of them today, since never before had someone looked at me in such a way. I was somehow able to notice his more defined features, ones that I hadn't noticed until now. He was standing somewhat in the back of the group as well, with his shirt thrown off of him, just so that he could show off his bare chest. It was easily one of the most muscular that I had ever seen, and I was sure that he could easily break someone with just one punch. His cheekbones were high and very defined, and his eyelashes were very long against his coal-black eyes. I suddenly was brought back to reality when I heard a rather loud laugh from the distance. I shook my head, and snatched myself out of Bryan's grip.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I said, my voice so cold that it almost made goosebumps form on my own arms. I glared at them all, and stormed away, making sure to pull my hood up over my face once more. It was all Bryan's fault; if he hadn't been so stupid as to pull on my hood, then those idiots wouldn't have been able to see my face. What made me even more nervous—and was the real main reason that I had run away—was the look in that one guy's eyes; it was like he had never seen a girl before. What freaked me out even more was the fact that he didn't even seem to gawk at my scars. It's not like I liked the attention or anything—I just wasn't used to not having it happen, that's all. I began to walk past Bryan's truck, ignoring any sort of yelling he did as I passed it. I began to walk down the road—where, I honestly had no idea. Just as long as I got as far away from there as possible.

But, about five minutes after I began to walk on the road, I felt a truck—one that sounded just like Bryan's—pull up next to me, and crawl at a slow pace. Not looking up, I snapped at him, "Just leave me alone, Bryan. I don't want to talk to you."

"So, then I guess you don't want to talk to me then, either, huh?"

I jumped at the unfamiliar voice, and looked up to see that I was staring right into the eyes of the guy that had been gazing at me with that weird look on his face. He was watching me, with a look in his eyes that I didn't really recognize. I was unable to speak, which was, really, an odd occurrence. How many times had my father told me that I talked way too much, especially when I didn't need to? I simply stared at him, star-struck. A smirk appeared on his lips, and he asked me, "So, are you going to get in or what?"

Don't ask me what made me do it. To this day, I really have no idea what told me to. It was just like someone whispered in my ear to take the chance, to trust someone, for once. And, that's what I did—I grabbed the door handle, wrenched it open, and pulled myself inside, all the while wondering what I had just gotten myself into.


	4. Chapter Three

I stared down at my hands, which were folded in my lap

I stared down at my hands, which were folded in my lap. They were almost completely enveloped in the sleeves of my sweatshirt, since they were so long. I always had this problem, since I was so small compared to everybody else. And, yet, I still wore baggy clothes; my step-mom had told me once that it could possibly be because I didn't want anyone else to notice me or the fact that I had such a petite figure. I wasn't sure how that could possibly be true, since I wasn't insecure about myself, but, whatever. She always tried to shrink me and act like I'm one of her patients and, even though I love her, she sure can be annoying sometimes.

I glanced over at the guy, and realized that I didn't even know his name. I studied his face, and, I realized that I had been so caught up in my daydreams about his face that I didn't even notice his eyes gazing down at me as well. I quickly looked away, and willed the blush away from my face. I didn't want to look like a complete idiot in front of him, now, did I? As I glanced over at him once more, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the smirk that had now formed on his face. Hmm, maybe it should be no surprise that he's good friend with my pig-headed cousin. I finally mustered up the courage to talk, and asked him, "So, do you have a name?" It was the only thing I could think of, really; how else was I supposed to get to know him?

"It's Paul," said Paul, turning his eyes away from the road and looking back down at me. And, the smoldering look in his eyes made me want to melt away right in that very seat. I had never felt so vulnerable to such a gaze, and I was sure that he had noticed my vulnerability as well, seeing as how a smirk had now returned to his face. "And, if I remember correctly, you're Charlie, right?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, looking out the window, relieved that my hood was still covering my scarred face. I wasn't sure if I was comfortable having my driver staring at me and my scars like I had just sprouted five heads and had fangs. "So, you're friends with Bryan, huh? I pity you, I really do."

A grin appeared on Paul's face, and I couldn't help but smile in return. It was just a smile that I would have returned in a heartbeat; it was almost like an instinct, one that I wasn't really too sure about. "He's not that bad," said Paul, shrugging lightly. "But, he does get really annoying sometimes with his brooding. And then I have to listen to it everywhere I go."

I glanced over at him, my eyebrows raised. "He's constantly talking about his problems?" I let out a little laugh, and added, "He doesn't really seem like the confessing-type of guy." I glanced over at Paul, only to find that he had a frown on his face, and he looked pained, almost strained about something. His hands began to clench around his steering wheel. An awkward silence followed, before I decided to break it this time.

"You didn't have to do this, you know. Driving me home and stuff. I could have walked by myself." My damn independent streak always came out at the worst time; my kinder, more respectful side was yelling at me for being so rude and not thanking him. I ignored her, of course; why should I deal with her this time, when I didn't even bother with her tons of times before?

"You know, a thank you would suffice," said Paul, and he sounded irritated now. I raised my eyebrows at his sudden mood change; his fists were clenching the steering wheel, and he didn't look all too happy with me. If I didn't know any better, I would have actually thought that he was actually trembling. Wow, this guy must have a serious anger problem. Of course, it would just be my luck to get into a car with a lunatic psycho. A very hot lunatic, my more boy-crazy side pointed out. Shut up! I thought to her, hoping that she would leave me the hell alone. Wow, I was definitely going insane if I was talking to my different emotions as if they were actual people. "Of course, I wouldn't expect that from you."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and turned so that I could face him. I was sure that he couldn't see my glare, since my hood was blocking my eyes; who knows if that saying about looks can kill is actually true. "And what is that supposed to mean? What, did my annoying cousin tell you that I was a spoiled brat who lived in New Hampshire and always got what she wants? Oh, let me guess: he told you that I always complain about everyone and that I'm the outcast of the family, which makes me public enemy number one?" I have to admit, I was letting off some steam during that little rant, but, still. Paul had no right to judge me just because of what my cousin told him.

"Actually, I was talking about the fact that you were really rude to my friends back there," retorted Paul, and I stared at him, ready to pull the damn car over just so that I could slap him without worrying about getting into an accident. Of course, I doubt that would be too good, since I'd probably just get even more scars, and I've gotten kind of sick of the staring.

"Oh, really? Tell me, then, o' mighty one, what would you do if you had a group of huge guys staring at you because you look a bit different from everybody else? I had every right be to rude back there, since they were the ones who were staring at me like I was some sort of freak," I snarled. Right now, I just wanted to get the hell out of there.

Paul was silent for a second, just staring at the road. His shaking—which I had finally acknowledged—had stopped, and he was acting as though he was thinking. Just as I had started getting used to the silence, he broke it. "I'm sorry. I actually forgot all about that. My mind was on...something else." He looked uncomfortable for a second, while all I did was watch him like he was an idiot. How could he have forgotten that they had been staring at me? Which was why I knew that he was lying about something. But, more importantly, I knew that he had something on his mind, which made me even more curious about what it was. But, before I could ask him what was wrong, he stopped the truck.

Looking around, I was shocked to find that we had already arrived at my house. I looked back at him, opened my mouth, shut it, opened it again, and then sighed. "Thanks for the ride, Paul," I said to him, giving him a small smile, though I was sure that he couldn't even see it. But, what I didn't see as I got out of his truck, was the smile that appeared on his face. If I had, I'm sure that I would have actually swooned, because his face became at least three times more handsome with that smile, even if it didn't really need it. And, believe you me, swooning was not a normal thing for me.

Just as I was about to shut the door, I felt something stop me shutting it. Looking up, I was surprised to see Paul leaning over, his door on the handle. His body was so long that he could easily place his head close to mine. I looked into his eyes, wondering what was going to happen. This was just like one of those cheesy romantic novels where the guy kisses the girl and sweeps her off her feet. A million thoughts ran through my mind in that one second. Was he going to kiss me? What should I do? Hit him? Run away? Kiss him back? Well, that certainly couldn't have happened, since I had no idea who he was or what was wrong with him. There was no way that a guy like him could be actually nice and good-looking. He may have been a bit odd, but he did help me, didn't he? I watched him, sure that he could hear my racing heart beat.

"See you later, Charlie," said Paul, and he shut the door, leaving me sitting there like a fish out of water. All I could do was sit there and watch as he pulled out of the driveway and drive off; if I didn't know any better, I was sure that I could have seen an arrogant smirk forming on his lips. Jack ass, I thought to myself, ignoring the fact that I was now, for the first time since I had arrived at La Push, Washington, smiling.


	5. Chapter Four

Hey guys, I'm so sorry that this took me forever to come out with

**Hey guys, I'm so sorry that this took me forever to come out with. Family's been driving me crazy, but, I should be on more often now. Hope you enjoy it, though **

As soon as I wsalked into the house, the sight I was greeted with was...interesting, to say the least. I have to say, I was kind of surprised when I got into the house and Aunt Rhonda was sitting on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest and looking seriously pissed. At first, I was confused, since I hadn't done anything wrong that she knew of, but, then, I saw Bryan sitting in the chair, his eyes narrowed at me. I swear, he reminds me way so much of my own father that it really frightened me. If there were two of my dad...well, then it's the end of the world. I watched them both, waiting to have some sort of response from either, but they simply glared at me, as if all disappointed in me. What, I didn't do anything wrong!

"Well, if you guys are alright, I'm just gonna go...," I said, inching towards the staircase. I had almost reached when it a sharp voice stopped me.

"Not so fast, Charlotte Anne Rose!" exclaimed Aunt Rhonda, and I cringed at the sound of my full name. No one had ever used my entire name unless I was in some serious trouble. Which, of course, meant that I was dead. I was so dead that I was practically road kill. I turned around and looked at her, crossing my arms over my chest. "How could you completely ditch your cousin like that? He was worried sick about you the entire time you were gone! For all he knew, you could have been kidnapped by some disgusting pervert who wanted to rape you!"

I raised my eyebrows at her; never before had I been scolded by my aunt, and, I have to say, I hoped it would never happens again. Even if I couldn't stand her, the disappointed tears in her eyes made sure to make me feel guilty, even if I believed that I had been right. Just so that she would stop crying, I softly said, "I'm sorry, Aunt Rhonda. I just was really upset. Anyways, Paul came to get me, and he drove me home."

Aunt Rhonda's ears perked up at this, and she looked at me, a surprised expression on her pretty face. "Paul? You mean Paul Wesley?" she asked me, and it was then that I remembered that I had never asked for his last name. It hadn't exactly seemed too important to me at the time.

"I don't know, I never got his last name. But he was with Bryan's friends at the beach, so I'm guessing that Bryan knew him. I would have thought that he would've seen Paul go after me," I added, shrugging my shoulders with an innocent expression on my face. Aunt Rhonda rounded on Bryan, her hands on her hips as she glared down at him. Before I could listen to her lecturing him, I excused myself from the room and walked up the stairs, internally grinning at myself for finally being able to get my bastard of a cousin for trying to get me in trouble. Oh, how payback truly was a bitch.

I entered my room, and shut the door behind me, allowing the thick silence to waft into my ears and calm me down. I brushed my fingers against my scars, feeling the throbbing of the pain pulsate through my fingers and up to my head. Groaning softly, I threw my sweatshirt over my head, revealing a thin black tank top underneath it. The chilly air clung to my warm skin, and I quickly threw on a pair of black sleeping shorts and a dark blue tank top. I glanced at the window, like I had done when I had woken up from my nap, and smiled to myself, shaking my head. Turns out that I couldn't resist the urge anymore; pulling it open, I placed my feet on the cool roof tiles and sat down on the slab of roof that had placed underneath my windowsill. I leaned against the back wall that faced out of my room, and sighed softly, closing my eyes. My hand, which had held my earbuds, placed them in my ears, so that I could listen to some music while I just thought.

I thought back to my home back in New Hampshire, where I'm sure both my dad and step-mom were worrying like crazy about me. I had no doubt that my younger sister, Hailey, was having a great time with her summer. She was blonde, tall, beautiful, funny, and extremely popular. She was one of those girls that you couldn't help but like, despite the fact that you wanted to hate her guts for being so perfect. Even though we were only one year apart, she was practically like my best friend, even though some of her more snobby friends wasn't too happy with that. I loved her to death, and would do anything for her. Even if it meant beating the living hell out of some punk—

My thoughts and memories were automatically cut short when I heard a branch snap near the woods that surrounded Aunt Rhonda's house. I automatically stood, my earbuds slipping out of my ears. I searched through the darkness, but found absolutely no one out there. My body was tense, and I was ready to jump right into my room, grab a weapon, and beat the shit out of the stalker that was around me. But, it was like my feet were glued to the roof; I was frozen. "Who's there?" I called, feeling some nerves finally relax so that I could move, but just ever so slightly. I was answered with silence.

Shaking my head, simply calling the branch a figment of my imagination, I slipped back into my room, shutting my window behind me. I sighed softly and fell ungracefully onto my bed, burying my head into my pillows. Soon, I was fast asleep, completely unaware of the dark eyes that had been watching me when I had been sure that I was alone.

I awoke to a sharp knocking on the front door. Apparently, everyone else was gone and this person was determined to have the proof in front of them, instead of having the brains to realize that no one was actually home. Well, there was me, but, let me tell you that I am not exactly a morning person. Which would probably explain the fact that I actually growled as I finally managed to untangle myself from the sheets that had somehow managed to crawl their way around me during the middle of the night. Of course, I accidentally fell out of my bed while doing so, which only added to my nasty mood. The obnoxious knocking continued, and I threw my door opened, seething as I stomped down the stairs. I completely forgot all about the fact that I was only wearing a pair of sleeping short and a tank top as I pulled the door open, my expression frightening. "What?!" I snarled at the person, but, of course I found the person to be quite familiar to me. I'll give you three guesses who.

Paul wasn't alone, actually; he had two other guys with him, who I recognized as the two of the guys that I had met the night before. I watched them all, a shocked, humiliated expression on my face as I remembered my rather skimpy-like clothing that I had worn for pajamas. Before any of them could do or say anything, though, I slammed the door shut, right in their faces. I wasn't sure what their expressions were after that, but, just in case, I yelled through the door, "Um, I'll be right back, I'm just going to get Bryan." I quickly ran up the stairs, ready to kill my stupid cousin for not being up already, especially through that knocking. The boy must have been a really heavy-sleeper.

I came to his door, and threw it open, only to find my cousin buried in his covers, in the same position that I had been in before I had woken up. His room was a complete mess, with torn clothes scattered everywhere. I was sure that there was an odd smell emitting from some place, but I couldn't decide where it was coming from, or what it even was. But, I didn't dillydally and walked over to Bryan's sleeping form. I rolled my eyes, and grabbed a glass of water that was sitting on his nightstand. Smirking at the feeling of it still being cold, I threw it on him, and watched the shocked expression take over his face. He automatically sat up, and jumped out of bed, but not without landing in a heap on the floor. I burst out laughing at the sight of him, and, as soon as he saw that I was the culprit, he glared at me with such hatred that I actually stopped laughing. "That wasn't funny," said Bryan, practically seething and trembling with such anger.

"I beg to differ," I replied calmly, before walking out of his door. I quickly called over my shoulder, "Oh, and, your friends are waiting outside for you." I heard him curse to himself, and I snickered as I entered my room. I managed to pull on a pair of jeans over my shorts, and walked back downstairs. Opening the door again, I was shocked to find a huge mass suddenly fall on me. It seemed that someone had been leaning on the door when I had opened it. The idiot and I toppled to the floor, and I actually squeaked when he landed on me. When I managed to find their face, I saw that it was Paul, and, I have to say, he was far from a light guy. Muscle seemed to weigh more than I could even imagine. He quickly got up, apologized to me, while his other two idiot friends were laughing. Taking his hand, he pulled me up and I glared at his friends. "Bryan should be down in like two minutes. Morons," I added under my breath as I walked off, which immediately cut off the other two's laughter.

I heard Bryan lumber down the stairs, and I did my best not to laugh when I saw that his shirt was inside-out. Before I could even mention it to him, though, he was out the door, laughing about something—most likely about me being a complete idiot. I sighed to myself, and rolled my eyes as I heard whatever car or truck they were driving pull away. The sweet silence had never sounded so good, and I smiled as I opened the door of the fridge...only to find it almost completely empty. Turning around, I saw two notes and an envelope sitting on the counter, written in Aunt Rhonda's neat cursive:

Charlotte,

Can you please go to the store and pick up a few things for me? I'll be working late tonight, so I won't have any time to do so. If you could, that'd be great. Here's a list of everything that I need, and some money you can use to buy whatever else you need. Thanks, Charlotte!

Rhonda

Sighing softly, I looked outside and saw that I was stuck with taking Bryan's stupid truck. Why couldn't he just buy a fast car like a Camaro or something? Now that would be wicked fun to drive. But, of course, since it was me who would be driving it, I was stuck with the truck. Shaking my head, I sighed and walked upstairs, ready to take a nice shower. After that, I threw on a pair of torn-up jeans, a dark red t-shirt, and my favorite pair of black sneakers. Grabbing the list, envelope, and the keys that had been thrown carelessly on the brunch table, I walked out to the truck and somehow was able to pull out of the driveway and begin my drive to the grocery store. I had noticed one when Andrew had driven me to the house, and I was relieved when I finally reached it without any trouble. Hmm, maybe this day wouldn't be too bad?

As soon as I got a cart, I began to push my way around all of the wandering people and grab some of the items that Aunt Rhonda had put on her list. However, as I was trying to search for some damn spaghetti noodles, I accidentally bumped my shopping cart with someone else's. Getting ready for the normal "Watch where you're going!", I was surprised to find that the person simply laughed in a feminine way. I looked up, and was surprised to see someone who wasn't actually too different. I'm not talking about someone with the same dark hair or small stature, but the scars that ran down her face. They were three lines that ran all the way down past her shirt, and, since her hand was showing, to her wrist. I winced, and looked up to see the unsurprising, shocked expression on her face. Her face, however, transformed into a warm, kind smile, despite her mouth being slightly ruined.

"Hello," said the woman, who could not have been a year older than twenty. I immediately felt a calming effect from her smile and voice, and returned her smile myself. "I'm so sorry for bumping into you."

"Oh, it's fine," I replied, waving away my apology. "It was my fault anyways for not looking where I was going. I'm Charlie Rose, by the way." I shook my head, and gave her a nervous smile. Truth was, I had absolutely no idea how to act around her. I had never met someone who had the same scars as mine that was about my age. What did I end doing, you may ask? Well, just read on. It shouldn't really surprise you. "So, what happened?" I asked her rather bluntly. I wasn't exactly the type of girl who beat around the bush.

She smiled amusedly, and replied, "I'm Emily Young, and, when I was out camping, I was mauled by a bear. What about you?" She spoke about it so casually, but there was a small part of me that was whispering in my ear about how she was lying. I ignored it, though, and remembered the question she had just asked me.

"When I was back in New Hampshire, my best friend and I got into a car accident when I was fourteen. When, they pulled me out, they found that the glass from our wind shield had cut up my skin so badly that it scarred, and, voila, I have my scars today," I explained, making sure to not mention anything about my best friend. That was just something that I didn't want to think about that this moment. It was too difficult...

"Well, aren't we just a depressing pair?" asked Emily, and I laughed along with her. It had never felt so good to really laugh about something that was supposed to be tear-jerking. Soon, Emily and I began to talk, and we actually began to shop together. Sure, it was for food, but, still, this was really the first time that I had gone shopping with anyone that wasn't a relative. I soon found out that Emily lived with her fiancé, Sam, and that she was practically the mother of their group, and that she was constantly having to cook for them. I had laughed when she had jokingly complained about how they could eat enough food for a small army, and still end up being hungry. As soon as we were finished and had checked out, she gave me her address so that I could come visit her anytime. She even offered for me to come over tonight, which I couldn't help agree to. At least I wouldn't be with my idiot cousin that night.

As soon as I got home, I was surprised to find an old, familiar truck parked in the spot that Andrew's truck had once taken up. I hoped out of the truck, only to find someone staring at me in my rearview mirror. Smirking, I watched them begin to approach me, as if trying to scare me. Just as soon as they were going to yell, I said, not looking up from the bed of the truck, where the grocery bags had been placed, "It's a bit hard to not notice you, Paul."

Paul looked completely deflated, but, when I turned back around and smiled up at him, it seemed as though he couldn't help but smile in return. Soon, we were both just standing there, smiling like idiots, until I realized that I was supposed to be bringing in groceries. I quickly turned away from him, relieved of the fact that I could simply distract myself with the bags. Grabbing two in each hand, I turned around, and found myself almost crashing into his chest. Fortunately, I was able to stop myself, and rolled my eyes at him. I hastily walked into the house, dropped the groceries off in the kitchen, and went outside to get the rest of them...only to find that Paul had easily grabbed the rest of them and was standing in the doorway, ready to walk inside, when I got in his way. Looking up at him surprise, I hastily got out of his way, and I swore that I had heard him laughing when he passed. Rolling my eyes, I dug the piece of paper out of my pocket, the one with Emily's address and phone number on it. She had told me to come over whenever I wanted to, and that most likely meant that I would be leaving in a bit. I didn't exactly want to be feeling all awkward around Paul, when I could be over a friend's house. Well, I wouldn't exactly call her my "friend", but, whatever.

As soon as I finished putting the groceries away—with Paul sitting at the brunch table, smirking the entire time, especially when I accidentally dropped a box of macaroni and cheese when I first realize that he was starting at me—I grabbed the keys to the truck and walked over to the door, completely ignoring Paul. If he wanted to be an ass, then I wasn't going to bother talking to him. So much for possibly being friends, huh? I had almost reached the door when he abruptly appeared in front of me, leaning against it with that oh-so-annoying smirk on his face, as if he was the best damn thing in the entire world. Oh, how I hated guys like that. The guys in New Hampshire constantly looked like that, since they were all really wealthy and had just about everything. "Can you please get out of my way?" I asked him, in a mockingly-sweet voice.

Paul raised his eyebrows at me, but did not look phased. Apparently, most girls acted like this around him. "Not until you tell me just where you are going," replied Paul coolly, his arms crossed over his chest, which was so broad, and muscular—uh, Charlie, shut up! He's an asshole, remember?! Freaking hormones...

Apparently, Paul had noticed me glancing at his chest for just a couple seconds longer, and the smirk on his face broadened into an impressive grin. And, I swear, I almost swayed on my feet. Fortunately, though, I managed to keep some self-control over my chest. "What are you, my mother? I can go wherever the hell I want, and I definitely don't need permission from you," I snapped at him. I wasn't so angry with him, but more with myself, for reacting in this way to him. How could one guy—whom I had only known for one day—make me feel like a school girl with a crush, when the other guys that I had known for years did absolutely nothing for me? I didn't even want to try and think about what the cause could be.

Paul continued to smirk, as if my snapping meant absolutely nothing to him. Cocky asshole. "If I remember correctly, both your cousins asked me to keep an eye on you, so that you don't get into any trouble," he responded rather-sarcastically, which only pissed me off even more. Sarcasm was my thing, not his. I crossed my arms over my own chest, and narrowed my eyes up at him. I was going to kick Bryan's and Andrew's asses for acting like a needed a freaking babysitter. "You know, you're kind of cute when you're angry," he pointed out, the grin on his larger than ever. I swear, I was so close to hitting him.

"Oh, thank you, I'm so excited about this that I'm going to write all about it in my diary!" I fake-gushed, actually jumping up and down and clapping my hands excitedly. That was something that he was going to have to get used to if he hung around me more—woah, what the hell was I thinking? Who said that I was going to be hanging around him more often? That was never going to happen, not as long as I had any say in it. Shaking my head, I became serious once more and said, "Come on, Paul, I really have to go." I tried to come up with some deal I could give him, but there was only one that I could make, and it was one that I didn't want to make. Sighing softly, I quietly said, "What if you just come with me, and then you can make sure that I don't get into any trouble with anyone? I'm sure that my friend wouldn't mind."

I watched his expression closely, and I knew automatically what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth: "Fine. But I'm driving."


	6. Chapter Five

**Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm so sorry that this took me so long. My muse has been really sucky lately, but then it just came back to me today, so I came up wtih this chapter. I hope you guys like it **

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As soon as I got into the truck—my aunt Rhonda's truck—I knew that the ride would be a long one

As soon as I got into the truck—my aunt Rhonda's truck—I knew that the ride would be a long one. I was sure of it, really. Paul just seemed beside himself in glee of the fact that he had broken me—bull shit, I wanted to tell him. There was no way that he had broken me. I just needed to find some way to get him off my back. Of course, there was the fact that I half-wanted him to come with me—wait a second! That was totally not me talking! I would never think that about Paul—he was a complete jerk! Uh, when I got home I would have to run my head under cold water just to wake myself up. Shaking my head, I felt the truck lurch backwards, and Paul began to drive down the road. Apparently, he knew where he was going just by looking at the address, but I didn't bother asking him why.

I put my black tennis shoes up on the glove box, just as I had done in Bryan's truck, and didn't actually expect Paul to really care. But, then, Paul looked over at me and told me irritably, "Put your feet down," as if I was a child.

Glaring up at him, I rolled my eyes and replied, "No thanks, Mom. If I'm being babysat, I might as well be able to do whatever the hell I want." I rested my right temple against the cool window, and watched the dark clouds overhead begin to release rain onto them. I expected to just the whole situation to end, but, Paul had to be so damn stubborn. Freaking jerk.

"Put them down."

"No."

"Put them down."

"No."

"I'm not joking, Charlie."

"Does it look like I am?"

"Just put your fucking feet down!"

"You move them yourself if you're that damn upset about it."

The truck suddenly came to a stop on the side of the road, and Paul looked really pissed. I mean, more than I had ever seen him be like before. It seemed that my stubbornness really annoyed him that much. He leaned over and grabbed both of my legs with his hands and set them down on the floor, before leaning away. I smirked and put them back on the glove box, just to piss him off even more, and he did the same as before. This time, though, he kept his hands on my thighs, and brought his face very close to mine. I felt my breath hitch up in my throat, and a fire seemed to erupt inside of me. And, I had this sudden desire to just kiss the hell out of him; it was completely new to me, since I had never felt like this before with anyone. Paul's expression changed from being angry, to an emotion that I had never seen before. It looked extremely similar to the one that I had seen him use the night before when he had picked me up. He seemed to notice my reaction, and brought his lips extremely close to mine, as if he was going to kiss me. My lips opened slightly, and I could feel his breath brushing against my face.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt streaked across the sky, waking us both up from our own little worlds. He pulled away from me so quickly that I wasn't even sure if what had happened had really happened. His muscles were all tense, and he looked really pissed. I looked away from him, and brought my fingers to my lips, and winced when I realized that they were aching because they hadn't been able to touch Paul's lips. He truly affected me so, and it frightened me more than anything else had. What the hell was he doing to me?

The ride was extremely quick; it seemed that Paul wanted to get there as soon as possible so that he could put some distance between us. Honestly, I was looking forward to that distance; I could feel the tension between us, and let's just say that I wasn't too comfortable with what the hell was going on. What really freaked me out was the fact that I had wanted to kiss him more than anything else, and I hadn't even known him for two days. What the hell was wrong with me? I shook my head to myself, and said that I really shouldn't open that door. The truck slowed in front of a small, little house with yellow shutters and warm-looking daisies planted in the flower boxes underneath the windows. It reminded me exactly of Emily, and couldn't help but smile; at least I could talk to her when I got there.

I hopped out of the truck and walked up to the front door, forcing myself to not look up at Paul. There was no way that I could ever face him after what had happened. I could practically feel his heat from behind me, and sighed; this was going to be a long night, I was sure. Just as I was about to knock on the door, it swung open, revealing Emily, who was standing in front of a very familiar person. It was the guy at the beach that had done his best to not stare at my scars. Heh, guess that explains why he did it, since he—and I was just guessing this—was Emily's fiancé. I could see her surprise when she saw Paul behind me, and I suddenly realized why he had known exactly where to go. The freaking asshole knew where I was going to the whole time—which meant that, most likely, knowing my luck, the rest of Paul's gigantic freaking friends would be here, including my cousin. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

"Hey there, Charlie," said Emily, smiling warmly down at me; she stood at only about five feet four, but she still was taller. Oh how I wished she was a bitch so that I could hate her. "I didn't know you knew Paul," she added, giving him a warm smile as well. I refused to look back at him, since I didn't want to see his expression.

"Yeah, I know, it really sucks for me," I replied, and I was sure that Paul was glaring daggers at my back, but I didn't care. I was suddenly extremely pissed off at him, and wanted nothing more to get away from him. It was his fault that he had been so close to kissing me, and that he hadn't even bothered telling me that he knew who Emily was. What fucking jack ass.

Emily must have sensed the tension between us, as she gave me a gentle, concerned look and ushered me into the house, giving her fiancé a pointed look, most likely telling him that he had to find out what the hell had happened. Oh, how I hate how really-close couples could figure out what each other were thinking. Good thing I would never have that, right? She brought me into the kitchen, while everyone else—who were all male, from what I heard from their loud voices—stayed in the living room. She was cooking what looked like a huge pot of spaghetti, and then another large pot filled with sauce that my stomach churn with hunger. She must have been one hell of a cook, because everything smelled amazing. Looking over at Emily, I found her looking at me with a questioning expression on her face. Sighing, I told her, "You know, you remind me of my step-mother with that look on your face." It worked; an amused smile appeared on her face. Before she could ask, though, I said, "Nothing bad happened, Emily. Paul just despises me and wants to make sure that I'm living in hell, which is why we don't get along."

A secretive expression flittered across Emily's scarred face, before being replaced with a patient one. "You know, I don't think he despises you, Charlie," she said, turning to the pot of spaghetti sauce and beginning to stir it. "You have to understand, Paul is...a difficult person to get along with. He has a lot of issues with his anger, and he sometimes loses control of it. He doesn't like too many people, but, from what I've seen already, he doesn't mind being around you. And, quite honestly, I don't think you mind too much either."

I gawked at her, questioning her sanity. How could she possibly think that I actually liked being around Paul? He was always so freaking moody and was arrogant and just a complete jerk. But, then, another part of me remembered how he had been the only one who had gone after me at the beach when not even my own cousin did. And, he wasn't that bad; in fact, he could even be funny, and was fun to argue with. It was more playful arguing whenever we did go back and forth. I sighed, and replied, "Yeah, I guess so. I just hate how he can be so damn moody sometimes." Emily laughed softly and nodded, understanding what I meant. Thinking something over, I hesitated, but then asked, "Why does he have such temper issues? I mean, there has to be a reason..." I looked at her, waiting for an answer.

Emily shifted nervously, and then shook her head. "It's not my place to tell you that, Charlie. You'd have to ask Paul to get that answer." She looked at me, and gave me a meaningful look, as if saying that she understood why I was so curious. "Could you do me a favor and pour the spaghetti in the strainer over there in the sink? My hands are kind of full here."

I nodded and picked up the pot, brought it over to the sink, and poured it out into the strainer. The steam filled the air around me, and I winced when I felt some of the hot water squirt onto my wrist. I set it down on the side of the sink, and pressed my hand against my wrist, trying to put some pressure on it. Emily's back was still to me, so, fortunately, she didn't see my stupid mistake. When I felt some of the pain subside, I shook some of the water out of the noodles, and poured them into the large bowl that Emily had put on the side of the sink. I then turned to see Emily turning the stove off and walking over to the bowl to pour the sauce over the spaghetti. It smelled like the best food I had ever come near before, and Emily handed me a bowl, giving me a look that said it would probably be best if I got my food first. I got a rather large scoop and put it in the bowl, and stepped away from the table, practically dreading how the small table would hold up with all of those guys sitting around it. It seemed that Emily didn't even have to say when the food was ready; the smell seemed to be enough. I sat up on the counter, watching seven large guys and one reasonably-tall girl surround the table, while Emily, like me, kept her distance. I listened to their conversation, and finally learned all of their names and what their personalities were basically like.

First, there was Sam, Emily's fiancé and someone that seemed to be madly in love with her. All I had to do was look at him and knew that he wanted nothing more than to be with Emily and no one else. Even when he glanced at her, it was obvious that he was so deeply in love with her. He seemed to be very quiet and the calm and collected type; he still seemed nice, though, and I thought he was absolutely perfect with Emily. I could already hear my sister gushing about how they made such an adorable couple and practically squealing in happiness.

Then there was Jacob, who I remembered being one of the guys that had been at my front door this morning with Paul. He was sort of quiet as well, but could definitely joke around and laugh; I was even grinning at some of the playful arguments that he got in with some of the other guys. But, I noticed that he sometimes looked off into space, as if thinking about something—or someone, perhaps? He seemed to be very smart with cars and mechanics.

Quil's the next guy that I figured out; I thought he had one of the weirdest names when I first heard it, but I guessed that it matched his personality. He was very flirtatious and joking, and seemed to love messing with everyone, even me. A couple minutes after everyone had sit down he had offered his lap to me, saying that it would most likely more comfortable than the counter. Smirking at him, I had told him that I would have to pass up such a tempting offer. He had laughed at that, but, if I didn't know any better, I had heard Paul growl when he heard my response. What the hell was wrong with him now?

But, anyways, next was Embry; now he was an interesting guy as well. He was the other one that had been at my door. He was a lot like Quil, but was a bit more quiet and sarcastic about the whole thing. He seemed like the guy that I would get along with the most, since he was kind of like me in his own way. Overall, though, he seemed like a cool guy to talk with.

Then, I had learned a little more about Seth and Leah. Seth was kind of awkward, but enjoyed laughing and telling jokes just like his other friends, but his sister, Leah, was different. She was quiet and sarcastic, and seemed almost bitter. I also noticed that she refused to look at Emily at all, which made me wonder if there was some sort of tension between the two of them. I couldn't really understand why, though; Emily was really sweet, and just seemed like someone that everyone could get along with. It kind of confused me, but would be something that I would probably ask her about later.

But, the person that confused me the most was Bryan. He wasn't all bitter and brooding like he normally was around me; he was laughing and joking and teasing some of the other guys, mostly Jacob, Quil, Embry, and Paul. He seemed to be closest with Paul, which made me want to groan inside. My cousin would, of course, be like the closest with the guy that had just tried to kiss me.

They all were like a big family, and it made me shift nervously watching them. I felt like I was intruding on them, but, they didn't seem to try and make me feel like that. On the contrary, Embry and Quil were constantly bringing me into their conversations and asking me who sounded more right in their petty arguments. I actually smiled and laughed in that house more than I had the entire summer. It was...nice, really, to be apart of a group that wasn't brooding or upset about everything in the world. I watched them throw away all the spaghetti that Emily had made, amazed that they could all eat so much. All I had was one bowl, when the person that had the least was Leah, who had almost five bowls. It was freaking insane, really.

"So, Charlie, since all the food is gone now, why don't you take up that offer I gave you and come sit on my lap?" smirked Quil, patting his lap as if trying to be inviting. I laughed at him, and shook my head. Paul, however, didn't seem so amused. He was glaring at Quil, who seemed absolutely unfazed by it. "What's wrong, Paul? Are you upset about something?" he asked him, a smirk still planted on his face. Everybody else was watching the three of us, while some of the males—Bryan, Embry, Seth, and Jacob—had large smirks on their faces. Leah, Sam, and Emily were glaring at Quil, as if telling him to shut his mouth.

"Nothing's wrong, Quil," said Paul, though he didn't sound like it. His voice was oddly strained, and I watched him curiously. Quil's smirk grew, and he seemed to enjoy pushing Paul to the edge. He puckered his lips up and acted like he was blowing a kiss to him, and Paul rolled his eyes. He stood and muttered something about needing some air, before walking out the door and slamming it loudly. All eyes were glared at Quil now, with the exception of my confused ones, and he just shrugged, an innocent expression on his face. I looked at all of their faces, and got down from the counter and began to make my way out of the kitchen.

"Charlie?"

I looked behind me, surprised to hear my cousin's voice sounding almost concerned about me. I looked up at him, since, still sitting, he was taller than me, and asked him, "What?" It wasn't unkind, but more confused than anything. I was completely puzzled about why Paul was acting that way, as if he was jealous or something. Why would he even be acting like that?

Bryan glanced at Sam's face, and seemed to think otherwise. "Nothing," he sighed, shaking his head, and going back to his slightly-full bowl of spaghetti.

I stared at him for a second, and turned back to the front door, curious about what on earth I was going to do, since I honestly had no idea.


	7. Chapter Six

I stepped out into the cool air, and, judging from the smell that hung in the air, it was close to raining soon

**Author's Note: Well, I felt kind of bad for taking so long, so I decided to post this other chapter tonight. You guys are probably going to love and hate me for this chapter, so, sorry xD **

I stepped out into the cool air, and, judging from the smell that hung in the air, it was close to raining soon. I quickly forgot these things, however, and watched Paul, who was leaning against his truck, his head resting against the car and his eyes were closed, as if thinking deeply. For once, I actually felt nervous about approaching him, as if frightened that he might yell at me. My bolder-side yelled at me and told me to move my ass, so I walked up to him and leaned against the truck beside him, silent for several seconds. Then, I opened my mouth and asked him quietly, "What happened back there?"

Paul sighed, shaking his head and walking away from me, as if needing some distance from me. I continued to watch him, confused about his actions. Why had he been so upset about the whole thing? It had just been a joke; there was no reason for him to flip out on Quil. I continued to watch him, and he then said, "You have no idea what you do to me, do you, Charlie?" His hands were pressed up against the small white fence in front of him, and he had his head hanging down, as if truly upset about it all. "Just hearing someone talk to you about that—even about a joke—is enough to drive me absolutely insane."

I was surprised; it was as if he was saying that he had feelings for me. But, that was absurd. We had only known each other for a little while. A small voice in the back of my head reminded me about the Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet and how they had fallen in love in only one night. Yeah, but that was between some love-sick loser and a girl who needed to get away, the sarcastic part of me replied irritably, and I shook my head, trying to shut them all up. I looked up at him, and replied, "How can you even talk like that? You don't know me at all; you can't have all of those kinds of feelings for me. It's...impossible."

I didn't expect him to do what he did next; he spun around, and, in only two or three strides, appeared in front of me, his arms pinning me up against the truck with his hot hands gripping my shoulders. I wasn't scared anymore, though; in fact, I was just curious of what he would do, and also felt something that I had never felt before. God, if I didn't know any better, I'd lose my mind over this one guy. "If it's impossible," he said, his voice low and I could easily feel his breath up against my face, "then why do I feel like this? Like I could so easily kiss you right here and now and never let you go? How I would love to make you mine and no one else's? Explain that to me, if you know so much about it."

I stared up at him, my mouth slightly open in shock. For once, I was speechless. My heart was beating at such a fast pace that I was sure that Paul could hear it. My hands were suddenly sweaty and clammy, and I felt his face beginning to inch towards mine. He was going to kiss me, I knew it. I felt my face turning up to his, ready to kiss him...

"Paul."

We both jumped, surprised by our intruder, and Paul jumped away from as if I had just caught on fire. Bryan watched us, his eyes narrowed at Paul as he walked over to me and placed his hand on my shoulder almost protectively. But, I found myself feeling more annoyed than appreciative. You have no idea how much I had wanted Paul to kiss me during that moment. We had been so close, but then my stupid cousin had messed it all up. Oh, how I so wanted to hit him at that moment. "I think I'm going to take Charlie home, Paul," said Bryan, and I could practically hear the threat in his voice, even though he had no reason to say it. He basically said that Paul better stay away from me, or he'd kill him himself. I looked between the two, and felt Bryan beginning to steer me over to his truck and practically drop me inside. I watched him walk around the front and step into the driver's seat, and start up the truck. My eyes then turned to Paul, but found that he had already turned away and was stalking back into the house. He looked unhappy, but he did not look back. And, what surprised me the most was the fact that I felt disappointed about the fact that I hadn't been able to look into his dark onyx eyes.

Bryan pulled away from Emily's house, and began to drive to his house. I couldn't call it home, since it just didn't feel like it to me just yet. But, I have to say, it was getting pretty damn close. I waited a couple minutes until I was sure we were fairly far from Emily's house, before turning to him. I was really upset with him most importantly; why did he act so upset with Paul? He was acting like I was his little sister or something, and that he was the one who had to take care of me. "Why did you act like that?" I asked him, my voice, more than anything else, just tired. I was sick of everything that was going on. "Paul wasn't doing anything wrong!"

"Like hell he wasn't," said Bryan, not looking away from the road, but glancing in his rear view mirror incase someone came up behind him. Fortunately, the road was practically empty, besides us. "He tried to kiss you, Charlie. He's dangerous, and I don't want you to hang around him. The last thing I need is for you to get hurt."

That really irritated me now. I mean, really, how was he supposed to think who I could or could not hang out with? He was not my freaking father, and I was going to tell him just that. And, anyways, wasn't Paul like best friends with him? Why would Bryan think he was dangerous? "Paul isn't dangerous!" I exclaimed, looking up at him incredulously. In fact, I felt safest with him than anyone else I had ever met before. "How could you even think that? And, I can be near him all I want to. You are not my father!" I finished, staring angrily up at him.

Bryan automatically pulled the truck over, and turned toward me. I found his expression extremely frightening, and I stared up at him in shock. He had never scared me before until now. I also noticed that he was shaking extremely badly, and I was curious as to why as well. "Right now, I am the only family you've got here, Charlie," said Bryan quietly, though his voice was strong and he sounded extremely angry. "Andrew's off in Seattle until a couple weeks from now, and I know that you would never think of my mother as family. So, right now, it's just me. Which means that I'm the one who has to take care of you and make sure you aren't hurt. Can you just, for once in your life, allow me to do this one thing? I don't trust Paul with you, Charlie. For some reason, I've grown kind of fond of you, even if you are annoying as hell."

He turned away, and began to drive. I stayed silent, and pulled my legs up to my chest. I was upset, especially with the fact that I wouldn't even be able to see Paul anymore. He had been really fun to hang out with, and I was already starting to miss him. Even if he annoyed the hell out of me, I still found myself missing him. Odd, wasn't it? We continued our ride home in silence, with me thinking about Paul, and Bryan, once again, lost in his own thoughts.

It had been a long week. It was Friday, now, and I hadn't seen Paul in four days, nineteen hours, and thirty-five minutes. Believe me, I was counting the minutes that passed that I couldn't see him anymore, and I absolutely hated it. I found myself constantly thinking about him and about what he was up to. Of course, I sometimes let my thoughts get ahead of me, like when I had become extremely jealous about the fact that he could quite possibly have a girlfriend or there could be some girl that he was flirting with. That thought had made me want to punch the wall in my room because of the jealousy that surged through my body.

On Thursday, I had been semi-forced into going with Emily and her sister, Danielle, who had come into town for the weekend with her three children, to get pedicures. Believe me, it was the weirdest thing ever. I had never had one before, but I totally wasn't used it. I'm sort of ticklish with my feet, so I was squirming when the woman was rubbing some sort of lotion all over my feet. It was just...weird. But, now, they looked nice with some light green-blue nail polish on my nails and slid into some black flip-flops that Emily had bought me so that I wouldn't wear my tennis shoes. When we walked out of there, I felt...different. I no longer felt like the person that had arrived in Seattle almost a week ago. It was odd, to say the least. When we arrived back at Aunt Rhonda's house, Emily invited me to the beach with the rest of the group and Danielle and her kids. And, I practically said yes as soon as she mentioned that the others were going. That meant, of course, that Paul was going. And there was no way that I was going to pass that up.

So, there I sat, wearing a Boston Red Sox t-shirt, a pair of black Capri's, and those black flip-flops that Emily had given me. I was waiting for Bryan, who seemed to taking forever to leave his room. I hadn't been surprised when he had gotten super pissed when he found out that I had agreed to go the beach, since he knew that Paul would be there. But, I didn't care; I was going to see Paul, and that's all that mattered. I missed the big bastard, but, of course, I would never tell him that. Bryan finally stomped down the stairs, dressed in some regular jeans and a Rockies t-shirt. I stood, and we both stared at each other's shirts. The Red Sox had just beaten the Rockies in the World Series, so there was a bit of tension between the two teams. We silently walked to his truck, and he began to drive to the beach, though his hands were holding the steering wheel tightly. He looked extremely uncomfortable, and I was sure that he didn't want to bring me to this beach, not even if he was given ten million dollars to do so.

We arrived, and I jumped down onto the ground. Just as soon as I did, I stumbled slightly and had to grab onto the side of the truck to steady myself. I tucked a strand of black hair behind my ear, and began to walk with Bryan down to the beach, where everybody was already sitting. As we approached, I noticed an extremely familiar person look up, and I couldn't stop myself from giving him a small smile. Paul looked into my face, and gave me a smile back as well. It seemed that he was as happy to see me as I was to see him. However, before I could talk to him, Danielle's son, Jackson, who was about five years old, rushed over to me and grabbed my hand. He had big, doe-brown eyes and adorable brown locks, and I grinned down at him. "Can you play with me? No one else wants to play this game with me?" He pointed his finger at the board game, which I immediately recognized as that beaver game where you have to hit them on the head with a little hammer. I nodded at him, and a big grin appeared on his face and he pulled me over to it.

We both sat down around it, and he handed me one of the hammers. And, soon I was in a match him with hit the little badger/beaver creatures as quickly as I could. When I won the first time, I stuck my tongue out at him childishly and he glared at me, and we continued to play. He was a fun little kid, and I loved him as we kept playing. He had such an incredible personality, and it was like playing with someone my age. He was just freaking smart. As the sky began to darken above us, I realized that I had played this game for almost three hours. I wasn't surprised until I felt an aching begin in my hand, and I had to tear myself away from it. Jackson understood, and he dragged the game back into the large bag that his mom had brought and sat down on her lap. I stood, and examined everyone else. Danielle and Emily were taking care of her latest baby, a small little boy with big brown eyes, just like Jackson's and Danielle's, and the rest of the guys were all playing a football game in the sand, with the exception of Quil, who was playing with Claire like I had done with Jackson. I walked over onto the sidelines of the football game and sat down next to Leah, who glanced over at me and said nothing. She hadn't said anything to me, really, but I didn't think that she was too bad. I still had not been informed about her situation with Emily, and I was more curious about it than ever.

I then noticed that all the guys were currently not wearing shirts, including, for the latter, unfortunately for me, Paul and Bryan. As Paul fell into the sand as he caught it, his eyes caught mine and he grinned at me. I grinned back and, just to mess with him, playfully wolf-whistled, and then flipped him off. He laughed, and, ran off, though he seemed very confident in himself. I leaned back on my hands, and found Leah was staring at me. When she saw that I had caught her, she asked me in quiet voice, "You can whistle?"

I laughed and replied, "Oh yeah. I used to go the Celtics games all the time in Boston, so I kind of had to learn to just to be heard that big crowd." Those were some of my best memories, really. I loved basketball. "You don't know how?"

Leah looked away, frowning, and shook her head. I raised my eyebrows, and sat back up. "Here, let me show you how." I showed her all of the movements and how to blow with her two fingers in her mouth. I had been taught all of this by some drunken fan at the game one day, but it had been fun, really. Soon, I got Leah to whistle really loudly, and it was just when Bryan had managed to catch the ball. He looked up in surprise, and found Leah was the one who had whistled. He smirked, but did nothing else, as if amused about something. I looked between the two, smirked as well, but said nothing. It was obvious to me now.

It was starting to get dark now, but that didn't stop everyone else. Soon, a bonfire was lit, and everybody was either munching on hot dogs or marshmallows. I had been chewing on a hot, gooey marshmallow when Paul sat down next to me, away from the others, who were all laughing and having a good time. The children were all sleeping, which meant that we could talk about stuff that wasn't exactly suitable for kids their age. "Hey," I said, looking up at him with a small smile on my face, after I had swallowed, of course. "Haven't seen you at all in a while. Missed me at all?" I teased, nudging him playfully.

He rolled his eyes, and stole away the next marshmallow that I had made by leaning over and popping it right into his mouth. Paul smirked as he pulled away and chewed it. I rolled my eyes at him this time, and said, "Be careful, or I might go in there and get it back."

A large smirk flitted across Paul's face, and he said, the marshmallow still in his mouth, "Let's see you try." He leaned his head down close to mine, and I could feel my need for him growing. I glared up at him, but did nor said anything. He seemed almost disappointed as he turned away. "I have missed you, Charlie. A lot, actually," he said, laughing hollowly.

I put down the stick that I had been holding, and nervously placed my hand in his. This was it; I was crossing the barriers, and I knew that there was no way of going back. I caressed my other hand across his hand, my fingertips brushing against his hot skin. "I missed you too, Paul. I told you I hate Bryan sometimes," I replied, laughing slightly. I kept my eyes on our hands, and was relieved to see that Paul had not pulled his hand away, but squeezed my hand back lightly. "I can't stop thinking about that night and what...what could have happened."

There, I said it. It had to be talked about, and there was no way of getting around it. I couldn't stop thinking about that night, and needed to know if he had been telling the truth back there. Paul looked down at me, and his eyes found mine easily. "Did you not want it to happen?" he asked me quietly, and I was sure that no one else in the other group could hear us talking. I was curious of whether or not my cousin was watching us, but couldn't bring myself to look away from Paul. It was so hard to look at anything else.

I slowly shook my head, and replied, "No, I wanted it more than anything else in the world." My voice was barely over a whisper, but I was sure that Paul could hear it easily. "And I know that you probably made a mistake by what you said, but—"

That was all I could say, since I had been cut off by Paul's lips gently pushing down on mine. One of his arms wrapped around my waist while his other hand buried itself in my long, black hair. I encircled both of my arms around his neck, and eagerly kissed him back. I had missed him for so long, and this kiss felt so damn good. It had already almost happened twice, and I needed it more than anything else in the world, just as I had said before. His lips moved against mine, and I could feel his tongue gently poke itself into my mouth, before deepening the kiss. I felt a shiver run down my spine, before, before it could go on for any longer, Paul was suddenly ripped away from me. My eyes opened, and I was shocked to see Bryan holding the back of Paul's shirt, looking extremely pissed off. And I knew exactly why: I had just gone against his wishes and made out with his best friend. Great.


	8. Chapter Seven

Bryan glared daggers at Paul, and Paul was doing the exact same thing to my cousin

Bryan glared daggers at Paul, and Paul was doing the exact same thing to my cousin. I remained sitting on the log, still amazed by what had happened. One minute Paul and I were kissing, and then Bryan was dragging him off of me, looking seriously upset. And, I understood why; I had told him that I would stay away from Paul, and yet, there I was, kissing him like it would be the last kiss we would ever share. I looked between the two, and slowly felt my muscles begin to work. I quickly stood and moved by Paul's side, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him away from Bryan, but he wouldn't move. "I told you to stay away from her," seethed Bryan, his entire body shaking very badly. I had no idea what was wrong with him, but it was really freaking me out.

"She can make her own decisions about who she wants to be around," replied Paul, his voice quiet with uncontained anger. He was pissed too, but, about what, I wasn't too sure. Maybe he was fed up with Bryan constantly meddling in our interactions. I tugged on Paul's arm anxiously, and was extremely embarrassed to find that everyone else was staring at us. Sam had stood, but stayed on the sidelines, watching them warily and getting ready to intervene if he had to.

"How can you possibly say that, Paul?" snarled Bryan, his muscles tense and now trembling. I was shocked to see the anger straining on his face, and the shaking continuing was only making it worse. "She doesn't know anything about you! She has no idea what you actually are!" His voice was rising with every word that came from his mouth, and I was relieved to see that Danielle, as well as Emily (probably to help her with them) had already left with her kids, probably because they were so tired.

I was now extremely confused; what the hell they were talking about? What was Paul? He was a human, duh! I watched them both, and they were both shaking now. Sam seemed to sense what was going to happen, even though I had no idea what was going on, and he moved over to me. "Go with Embry and Quil, they'll drop you off at your house," he said in a quiet, commanding voice, and I knew better than to argue. Something bad was happening, I could easily sense it as well, but I didn't want to leave them both there. It seemed that I didn't have a choice, though, and Sam gently pushed me over to the two boys, who were watching Bryan and Paul with almost annoyed expressions on their faces. They led me away, while I kept my eyes on the three boys; Sam was talking to the two quietly. I got into Embry's car, and watched them as we began to drive away. However, just as I got into the car, I saw Bryan and Paul suddenly explode out of their skin, and turned into extremely large wolves. That was when my entire world went black.

"Shit. She fainted."

"Well, wake her up."

"She's not sleeping, you moron. You have to pull over and get her some air."

"Well, we're almost to her house. Just pull her out and carry her in. She's small, so she won't be heavy."

"You think Paul will mind?"

"Shut the hell up. We're here. Take her inside and get back so we can go tell Bryan and Paul that she saw them. You can bet that Sam will be pissed."

"Can't wait for that."

I kept my eyes closed, listening to their conversation while acting like I was still passed out. I needed to figure out what the hell was going on, but, unfortunately, their conversation didn't help me too much. At least it proved that I wasn't insane, though; what I had seen was true, not just a figment of my imagination. I felt someone pick me up out of the car, and begin to carry me into...somewhere. I had no idea what it was, since the conversation had been slightly confusing, but, as soon as I heard my Aunt Rhonda's concerned voice, I knew I was back home. I was set down on my bed, and then the person left, shutting the door quietly behind them. My eyes then opened, and looked up at my dark ceiling. All the events of today rushed back to me, and I groaned, feeling a headache already starting to form. I knew I needed answers, and I was going to get some soon.

I opened up my window and stepped out on the roof, still dressed in the clothing that I had worn to the beach. I then slid down the railing on the side of the roof, and landed rather ungracefully onto the patio. I jumped when I heard a twig snap in the woods behind me, and I spun around, cursing myself for not bothering to bring a bat with me just in case. The bushes began to rustle, and then something very large appeared. It took me a couple seconds for my eyes to adjust to it, and then I realized that it was a large wolf, one of the ones that I had seen at the beach. I slowly stood up, and watched the grey wolf begin to approach me, though it was rather hesitant, as if nervous that I would push it away. However, I simply watched it, trying to figure out who it was that I was looking at. But, when I saw the dark onyx eyes staring up at me, a relieved smile appeared on my face when I softly said, "Paul."

His dark eyes stayed on mine, but his head nodded once. I tentatively laid my hand on his head and began to run my fingers through his soft fur. I didn't care that I had just assumed that this wolf was someone that I knew very well, and that I could possibly be insane. Well, it wasn't too much of a surprise for me, since I was already a little insane. Ask my psychiatrist. He'll tell you all about it. I scratched the back of his ears, and a weird sort of humming came from him, making my hand practically vibrate. I jumped, but laughed softly at him before making my hand come back to my side. "Paul, what...the hell is going on?" I asked him quietly, looking down at him with my arms now crossed over my chest. I needed some answers, and I'd be damned if I had to go to sleep tonight without knowing what was going on.

Paul seemed to nod his head again, turned, and slowly walked towards the forest, before disappearing into the darkness. I watched the woods anxiously, confused as to what he was doing, or if he had just left. But, then, he emerged from the woods, back in his human form with only a pair of jeans on. He stood a couple feet away from me, but I quickly closed it. I had been waiting so long to do this, and the desire just had to get the hell out of me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his lips down onto mine; his arms slithered around my waist, and he began to deepen the kiss. My legs felt like they were about to give out from the intensity of the kiss, but there was no way that I could allow myself to collapse with such a kiss being laid on my lips. I slowly pulled away from him, my breath coming out in fast gasps, and watched his face, curious of what was going through his head. "Sorry, I just had to get that out of the way," I said quietly to him, and a grin appeared on his face before he gently pressed his lips to mine in a soft, tender kiss, one that wasn't nearly as passionate as the one just before it, but just as sweet.

Paul silently led me over to the patio, and sat me down in one of the chairs, and then settled into the chair across from mine. He studied my face, before his hand slowly came out and tucked the dark hair that had spilled out from my pony-tail behind my ear. I watched him, my heart thumping against my chest as he gently caressed my scarred cheek; surprisingly, all I felt was his warmth. His hand went down to his side, leaving me feeling colder than ever. "I'm a werewolf," said Paul quietly, his dark eyes never leaving mine, and I watched him for a couple of minutes. "Go ahead and ask away."

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out what was going on. A werewolf? Those were myths, legends that people had made up to scare children. They supposedly transformed during the full moon and were dangerous. God, next thing I know, he's going to tell me that vampires exist. "H-how? I mean, were you like bitten or something?" I asked him, my voice slightly shaking. It wasn't that scared of him; I was just nervous about the whole subject we were getting into. My mind was going overdrive with all of my thoughts running through it. "And, how can you change on your own? Don't you have to wait for the full moon?"

A wry smile appeared on Paul's lips, and he replied, "It's not about being bitten by another werewolf; it's your bloodline, really. But, what really influences you changing for the first time into a werewolf is one enemy approaching." I looked up at him, a blank expression on my face, and he added, "The vampires."

"Wait, wait," I said, raising my hands and shaking my head. Now there were vampires too? God, what the hell was going on in this freaking world? "Vampires? So, they are your guys' sworn enemies, and are what change you? And, you can change whenever you want to, I'm guessing?"

Paul nodded and added, "You also can change involuntary when you lose your temper, like what happened at the beach." I held in my breath, and let it out in one shaky blow. "That's...that's why Bryan thinks that I'm too dangerous for you. I've got the worst temper out of the entire group, and there are tons of risks hanging out with werewolves. Emily's face is the proof of that."

I looked up at him, surprised. Emily had been lying to me; she wasn't mauled by a bear. She was mauled by a werewolf. And I could already guess who it was, judging from what I had overheard from the group. "Sam did that, didn't he?" I asked him in a quiet voice. Paul silently nodded. I understood why Bryan was so concerned about me; if Sam, who was extremely calm and quiet, could do that to Emily, Paul would probably be considered the most dangerous of them all for me. "How did it happen?" I asked him quietly.

"Basically, Emily got too close to Sam when he changed, and, the next thing she knew, she was sitting in the hospital with bandages on her face and arms. Sam was devastated, really; he just wanted to throw himself in front of a bus because of what he had done. But, Emily comforted him, and, then, they are where they are today, engaged to be married," finished Paul, and I noticed how his chair was so close to mine that I could easily take his hand in mine. Hesitating, I reached over and slid my hand into his, and his thumb automatically began to caress my knuckles, which was a rather soothing feeling for me. "I can't even imagine what I would be like if I ever hurt you, Charlie," said Paul, staring deeply into my blue eyes and making my heart pound against my ribcage.

I got to my feet, and settled myself onto his lap, my legs hanging over the arm of the chair and my head resting on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around me, and I could feel him burying his face into my hair. He breathed in my scent, and I sighed, completely at peace. I didn't ever want to leave from this spot; it was completely unreal how I could so easily feel like this for one guy, but he was making me absolutely insane. "There's something else I have to tell you," he said, and I turned my face up to his. "There's something else that ties in with the wolf thing." I watched him closely, waiting for him to explain. He looked almost uncomfortable, and I could feel knots beginning to form in my stomach.

"It's this thing called imprinting," said Paul, looking away from me and at the forest. "It's a rare occurrence that happens to some werewolves. It's like...finding our soul mates, almost. It happens on first sight; as soon as you see the person, it's like nothing else matters, and you're breathing your first breath of air for the very first time. It's already happened to Sam, Quil, and Jared." At my confused expression, he quickly added, "You haven't met him yet; he's off in Seattle with Kim, his girlfriend." Paul hesitated, and then, said, "It's also...happened to me."

About a thousand emotions ran through me, as my expression changed into a completely blank one. I looked away from him, and into the woods. I couldn't see his face. First, I felt surprise, and then anger, and then jealousy, and, lastly, sorrow. He had imprinted on some other girl, someone that could be with him forever. And, then I came to my last emotion: rejection. This was why he had come back here; to tell me that we could only be friends, and that he couldn't be with me, since he had already imprinted on some other girl. This was just fucking great. Rage overtook me, and I stood up from his lap, not able to look at him. I was trembling so badly, but I wasn't sure if it was because I was so sad, or if it was because of the fact that I was now super pissed.

Paul, who seemed surprised at my reaction, watched me with a puzzled expression on his face. I turned away from him, my arms crossed over my chest, and told him in a cold voice, "Why don't you go see her then? I'm sure she's wondering where you are. You wouldn't want her to think that anything is going on between us." He stood up, and, suddenly, his arms were wrapped around me, pulling me close into his warm body. No matter how angry I was, I couldn't resist that amazing feeling that spread throughout me, making my fingers tingle. "Stop, all you're doing is hurting me even more."

"You silly girl," said Paul, chuckling softly, pressing his lips onto the top of my head. "I imprinted, but not on someone else. I've imprinted on you."

A rush of emotions ran through me, and I realized that I must have been crying, since moisture had spread on my cheeks. They weren't from sadness anymore; no, they were from happiness. I turned around and pushed myself into his arms, not wanting to let him go. I was more vulnerable than ever, since I was just so emotional from everything that was happening. It was a lot of information to process. "Uh, I hate crying," I mumbled into his bare chest, feeling the raging heat practically radiating onto me. A rumble erupted in Paul's chest, and I shoved him playfully. I leaned up and gently placed a kiss on his lips. I had expected it to just be a simple, short one, but then, suddenly, I had my legs wrapped around his waist and my hands were buried in his black hair, and we were kissing like we hadn't seen each other in weeks. I pulled away from him, my hair a mess and my lips feeling extremely swollen, while Paul had a large, satisfied grin on his face. I unwrapped my legs from him, and rested my head against his chest, trying to calm my breathing. "We've got to get a grip on ourselves before we start something that most likely won't finish too well," I told him, grinning up at his face.

"I don't know if I can control myself," replied Paul, smirking and pressing his lips to my forehead. I rolled my eyes at him, and stuck my tongue out. Just like any other guy, he couldn't control himself when it involved sex. "You need to get some sleep, you look exhausted," said Paul, and he began to lead me over to my window. I hesitated, and he looked back at me, almost confused.

I opened my mouth, closed it, and then said nervously, "Do...do you have to leave like right now?" The truth was, I didn't want him to leave. I really enjoyed being around him, and didn't even want to think about what it would be like if he left me on my own. Not after everything that he had just told me. I had no doubt that I would have some serious nightmares about him or any one of the pack getting hurt.

A grin appeared on Paul's face, and he gently placed his wide hand on my cheek, caressing my scarred skin. He seemed to be leaning down to kiss me once again, when he simply rested his forehead against mine. I shivered as he pulled back away, still feeling the warmth of his breath on my lips, and he chuckled. "I have to go on patrol, but I'll stay until you fall asleep. I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow," said Paul, and a relieved smile appeared on my face. I silently climbed up onto the roof, and turned around, only to find that he was already standing behind me. He smirked at my surprised expression, but remained silent, as we didn't really want to wake up my Aunt Rhonda or, and I was just guessing that he had returned, Bryan. I found my bed extremely inviting, but knew that I had to change into my pajamas first. Unfortunately, I wasn't really the girl who bought those sexy kinds of nightwear; all I had were old boxers that I would steal from my guy friends, and baggy t-shirts. I disappeared into the bathroom, giving Paul a small smile before I left, and threw on a pair of plaid boxers and a much-too-big band t-shirt. I grabbed a comb and hastily ran it through my hair, which was kind of frizzy, and then quickly brushed my teeth. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I thought that I looked absolutely awful. Sighing, I left the bathroom and went back into my bedroom, where Paul was laying down on the bed, smiling at the sight of me.

"I know, I know, I look like hell," I said, rolling my eyes at his smile, but he just shook his head, laughing, as of it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. How could he think that I was honestly pretty? I thought I was hideous, and yet, whenever he looked at me, he acted like I was the most beautiful person placed on this planet. It was odd, but, I found that I didn't mind it too much. He made me feel different, and it was something that I definitely could get used to.

"You look gorgeous," said Paul intensely, and a blush began to form on my cheeks. God, what the hell was wrong with me? I'm not the blushing type; most things I say are the things that make people blush, but, of course, those things aren't exactly friendly. He noticed my blush as I curled up underneath the covers, and grinned down at me arrogantly. "You need to have a wake-up-call and realize that you are absolutely the most beautiful person in the world," he said softly, leaning his head dangerously close to mine, so close that I could easily count each individual eyelash he had. My breath became caught up in my throat, and I shivered nervously. He chuckled once more, and gently pressed his lips to mine. "Go to sleep. I'll be here as soon as you wake up in the morning," he whispered, and I could already feel my eyelids growing heavy. And, then, I fell fast asleep, my mind traveling off to an area that it had never been before, all the while knowing that I was being held in the arms of someone that would take care of me for as long as he could.


End file.
